Bound
by IntoTheWilds
Summary: AU: Derek, a kind and justly ruler of Findabhair, does all he can to keep peace within his country. However, Queen Fran, a vengeful Siren has other plans. Using her ghostly song she ventures the plains killing any man who stands in her way to reach the royal city. -REST OF SUMMARY INSIDE-
1. Prologue

DISCLAIMER: **I do not own Criminal Minds or its characters! The World I have created and its places are fully of my imagination :) So enjoy!**

SUMMARY: **Derek, a kind and justly ruler of Findabhair, does all he can to keep peace within his country. However, Queen Fran, a vengeful Siren has other plans. Using her ghostly song she ventures the plains killing any man who stands in her way to reach the royal city.**

**She is completely unaware the huntress is soon to be the hunted. **

**Life destroyed and parents so cruelly taken, Spencer, a lonely elf has a score to settle, but will he too be swayed by Fran's charm...?**

**Life's are on the line, blood shall be shed and darkness looms on the horizon.**

AUTHOR'S NOTE: **Okay, this is quite obviously an AU, so I hope you like it! It's something I wrote like 6 years ago, and I've just rooted it out of storage. Love it, hate it, don't mind either way! Love you my flowers!**

**IntoTheWilds**

**Xxxx**

* * *

_We were strangers, starting out on a journey__  
never dreaming, what we'd have to go through  
now here we are, and I'm suddenly standing,  
at the beginning with you._

**_-Anastasia, movie_**

* * *

Prologue:

**_The Wind She Whispers And her Song Is Dark:_**

Breathing ragged and heart ramming forcefully against his weakened ribs, Jason, an elderly forest pixie, vaulted over tree roots and through thick brambles. He was doing all he could to escape the melodious music drifting through the air, attempting to captivate his senses. The moon illuminated his childlike features, his pepper and salt hair billowing wildly about his sharp angular face and fear surged him onward.

Of all deaths he could experience, he preferred it wouldn't be this.

Naturally a fast creature, Jason sprinted ahead, but the tune drumming in his pointed ears was becoming more mesmerizing by the second. It was slowing him down. Branches snagged on his clothing, snatching like claws and scratching his pale skin. Jason broke free of the trees and toppled into a large clearing, sweat pouring from his shuddering body.

Coughing fitfully he pushed himself shakily to his knees and then he saw _her_, her image reflected in the crystal like lake before him. Her silver orbs were cold, yet they sparkled, the pupiless irises the only sign that she wasn't human. She possessed skin the colour of alabaster stone and hair a shining sleek river of molten fire, which cascaded down her back, emeralds decorating her blood-red gown.

"Queen Fran," gasped Jason scrambling away.

"Fran will do," she whispered back, the siren's voice soft and silky.

Approaching barefoot, Fran hummed gently and he knew without a doubt that he was fully snared. Trapped and with nowhere to go, Jason prayed another would come along and save him. Running a finger over his cheek, Fran sneered maliciously, "Oh my, little Jason, your blood smells so divine."

Quivering under her icy gaze Jason tried as hard as he could to claim some sense of courage, clasping onto it for dear life, "what could you possibly want with a withered old fool like me? Surely the human men of the Lizua village would satisfy your tastes?"

"I'm afraid not Jason. I'm unwilling to trek the Zanek Mountains and human blood is so meagre." Kneeling down Fran had Jason swiftly pinned. "A pixies blood, however, is tantalisingly delightful."

Squirming beneath her weight, the frightened pixie tried to block out her ghostly but beautiful song. Unfortunately each note seeped in through his skin, the melody filling him to the brim and shattering any form of magic he possessed. Bright eyes glazed over and Jason's body finally submitted to her control. Feeling his body go limp, Fran released a gleeful chuckle, easy to break and easy to kill.

Just like all the others.


	2. One: Into The Winds

DISCLAIMER: **I do not own Criminal Minds or its characters! The World I have created and its places are fully of my imagination :) So enjoy!**

AUTHOR'S NOTE: **Sorry for the long delay! Thank you all who read and reviewed, enjoy my lovelies!**

**IntoTheWilds**

**xxxx**

* * *

Chapter One:

**_Into The Winds:_**

Hot sun beating down upon the grassy meadows of Findabhair, Spencer, a young teenager of sixteen, or so he seemed, found himself on the outskirts of Sluain. A small town near the desert plains and mostly elfin occupied, himself an elf also. Bronze hair tied at the nape of his neck fell between his shoulder blades, in thick coils, his skin the colour of cream. Pointed ears twitched and he drank in his old home with almost gold eyes. They glinted like gemstones. It had been the first time he had been near Sluain in five years, since his parent's death.

Forgetting his own thoughts, Spencer looked up at the sound of giggling to see two red skinned beings. Their gold eyes glimmering and black hair as dark as a starless sky. The two watchful newcomers were Nightshades, demonic seers, crafty and far trickier then fairies. Akela's golden eyes burned through Spencer as she watched him. Akia, her twin brother grinned down at him.

"Quite the silly boy, isn't he sister?"

She cackled lightly, her red flesh sparkling as rubies would, "very much so brother."

Spencer glared up at them, "No one asked you devil spawn. You should not dare mock me."

The young Nightshades snarled. They were a demon no one should ever anger.

"Watch yourself elf," hissed Akela, "it would take very little effort to carve out your heart!"

Jumping from the branch of an oak she had so gracefully draped herself across, she landed gently in front of Spencer, halting his attempts to walk on. Her rich shiny eyes probed his every thought, each desire, any need for hatred or even fear. Placing a scarlet hand upon his chest, she felt his heart beat calmly beneath her fingers. No fear for her, not a trickle, nothing irregular in each rhythmic thump.

"What is your name?"

"Spencer, son of Yuki and Alu," he whispered shyly.

"Ah yes, I knew them. Both dead I believe?"

"That is right."

Defences crumbling, Spencer wanted desperately to continue on his path. A discussion of his parents was the last thing he wished to contend with. No one likes a dark past, which is why the past is usually forgotten.

Spencer felt a slight pain pounding around his skull as the memories ensued despite protest. Moaning he pushed himself away from Akela, who seemingly had not noticed after becoming extremely nervous. Hissing up to Akia in a tongue Spencer was unfamiliar with, the twin seers darted off into the trees surrounding Sluain and then Spencer heard it, as the skies filled with shouts and the neighs of at least four horses. Frightened Spencer stumbled backwards as he watched he silhouettes of four men approaching in the distance. Above them flew a brightly painted banner, engraved with a silver dragon. Recognising it as the royal flag, Spencer knew it could only mean one thing. King Derek was on his way. Racing down the rest of the pebble speckled road he headed for the town centre, where he knew the rest of Sluain would have gathered. Heart rate rising, Spencer looked around the many faces as young men gripped their wives and children skirted around alarmed. Amongst the elves were a few pixies, a mother Tunâna and her sons Ilka and Rё, next to her stood an elderly Nightshade, the twins from before huddled in her embrace. Silver streaks decorated her ebony curls, wrinkles here and there on her blood red skin. Spencer recognised her as Naoki, a wanted fugitive of the royal city and the most terrified of all the townspeople.

Horns resounded throughout the sky, alerting them to the kings nearing presence, but no one dared run. There was no such thing as hiding from a siren. As the carriage veered into the middle of Sluain, it tore up the earth, shards of broken stone dancing against the hooves of the many horses pulling and surrounding it. Halting before them the king's guards aligned themselves in a protective manner, not that anyone would be stupid enough to attack. Spencer's right hand carefully found the hilt of his elfin blades. The ancient runes carved into the enchanted metal sparking with an old and powerful magic. He didn't think the king had come for a fight, but it was best to be on the safe side. Swords at the ready, the captain of the guard stepped forward and announced, "Presenting his majesty, King Derek."

Standing aside he made way for a young man in his late twenties, ebony hair hung loose about his broad shoulders, dark skin glimmering and dark eyes extremely captivating. It was rare to have a male siren; then again, sirens didn't normally bare children. Unlike his mother Fran, Derek was a kind man with no reason to harm anyone. He preferred peaceful methods when it came to any sort of conflict in any part of Findabhair. All of Sluain were soon down on their knees in a bow of respect for their beloved ruler. Chuckling Derek smiled brightly.

"Now my friends stand, for there is no need to find one's self on the ground to simply show a bit of respect. I already know I have it, I do not need any proof of it."

Behind him stood the most beautiful girl Spencer had ever seen. With hair like the night sky and skin like gold she could put the most amazing gem to shame, her eyes stunning silver. A delightful creature and one Spencer wished terribly to know. Even if he only just got her name he would be content. Almost as if she had heard his thoughts the unknown woman glanced in his direction a beaming smile upon her pretty face.

"Listen my friends," boomed Derek claiming back Spencer's attention, "I come to you with grave news. Another of our people has been brutally murdered by Queen Fran!"

Sighs and angry mutters rose like a wave as the silence lifted from the people of Sluain. All wondering who was not among them?

"Who sire?" Interrupted an elf called Kahero, "who has Fran taken from us?"

Derek released a painful groan, "a pixie."

He signalled for his guards to bring in the body. Tunâna whimpered falling to her knees, she knew it would be her husband, she knew sorrowfully it would be her Jason, as he had not returned home that night. Gently placing a lifeless bundle before her, Derek's men stepped back heads bowed in a pitying way. His face was badly beaten, horrific purpling blotches mingling with green and the ashen grey of death. Tears hot and bubbling streamed down Tunâna's cheeks as she placed one last tender kiss on her wilted husbands face. Broken sobs fled from her lips as she rocked back and forth in her son's embraces, their own cries assorted with that of their mothers.

Helping them to their feet Zana the elfin medicine woman led the three away, Kahero carrying Jason close behind.

"I am here to make a proposition," Derek continued, "I am in search of a bounty hunter, willing to take down Fran, once and for all."

Pure silence met Derek's request. To seek the Queen would have been suicide, even for the strongest of warriors. She was a powerful, merciless killer and with her siren abilities, next to impossible to contain. Then to many surprised whispers a powerful voice called out.

"I shall do it my king. I will willingly drive a sword through that wench's heart."

As the crowd parted, Derek was astounded to see it was a boy who had spoke, with more fire in his golden eyes than any of his greatest soldiers. He approached him with a regal stiffness.

"What is your name boy?" asked the king smoothly.

"Spencer," the boy answered.

"And your age Spencer?"

"I am sixteen years sire," he lied without a single hiccup of hesitation, "I shall be seventeen in the next two months on the night of a full moon."

"Your name sounds familiar; do I know your parents?"

"Maybe, my father used to be a soldier. His name was Yuki and my mother was Alu."

Eyebrows furrowing Derek thought for a moment, unfortunately he could not recall either one. He had heard the names before, of that he was certain but from where was another thing.

"Forgive me Spencer, but my memory isn't as good as it once was."

"It is alright sire. They passed on five years ago."

"And have you cared for yourself all this time?"

Spencer nodded quietly.

"I left Sluain and travelled around Findabhair. I had intended to venture across the oceans next, but I am needed here."

He was a strong boy, Derek could not deny that but he was just too young to play warrior. If only the king knew the truth. Highly impressed he bowed smiling kindly.

"Your courage precedes you Spencer, but I rather not send a child to do a man's job."

Eyes' widening in shock, slightly infuriated, Spencer was about to protest when, "I shall join the boy sire."

Heads turning, everyone watched as a young Nightshade stood next to Spencer. Gold eyes sparkling, he stood at six foot one, scarlet body well toned, black shirt hanging loosely, an old dragon's tooth covered in rune symbols dangling from around his neck. Ebony hair nearly touched the ground; it looked like a blanket of the night sky flowing behind him. Scars along his hands and wrists suggested he wielded a sword, same for the calluses on his palms. Chest puffed up he waited for Derek's response.

"And who might you be?" The king asked suspiciously.

"Will, son of William and Fida," the stranger replied proudly.

Derek was a little taken back, if he truly was the son of William and Fida what on earth was such a noble man doing in the town of Sluain? Rather than question it, he let it alone, "And your age?"

"Nineteen years sire. My celebration of birth was in the last month on the night of a half moon."

"I know nought of you Will, but I do, however, know your family."

He nodded, knowing full well the king would have recognised the names. He was also quite sure; Derek would leave it at that.

"I came down from Hirosha many years ago my king. I have lived here with my grandmother since then."

Spencer danced an eye in Naoki's direction wondering was she the woman Will had spoken of.

"And you are willing to accompany Spencer on this important quest and complete the deed?"

"Yes your majesty"

Derek focused his warm eyes on him, thinking how much easier it would be if he could read minds. He trusted most men, because he could read them almost as easily as a good book, but Will was another story. He hid his emotions well, and his mysterious aloofness made Derek uneasy of him. But of course only time would tell.

"What are your reasons for doing this Will?"

"I have none sire, at least none I wish to discuss. I just want to serve you;" eyes narrowing, Will felt irritated at being questioned, "isn't that enough?"

Zoning in on his emotions, Derek found no untruth or deceit in what Will had told him. Of course Nightshades had the remarkable ability of hiding their feelings and emotions from others, which are what in one way, made them all the more dangerous.

"For now its fine," Derek finally grunted in defeat, while walking back toward his carriage, "both you and Spencer shall come with me to the palace. We will give you rations and weapons to complete the task. The time is one month. If you have not returned with Fran's heart in that time you will be announced dead and another two shall be sent out in your place."

With a quick glance between one another, the two teenage boys bowed graciously.

"We except sire," whispered Spencer.

"Gladly, we will do as you command my king," stated Will.

With watchful eyes and broken words the people of Sluain took one last look at the young warriors before they ventured forth to enter the lion's den. Who knew, it would not be so easy.

* * *

XxX

* * *

Scooting up a rock face and kicking past debris a young Necrosphinx made his way up toward the highest peak of the Kannek Mountains. Gazing out at the horizon, Fran glowered at the land with loathing. Tilting her head back she sniffed, taking in a forestry pine cone scent, lush grass and sunflowers, Fran wanted the air to reek of blood; she wanted it to poison the skies and her victim's screams to fill the air like a murderous song. She wanted her first kill on a silver platter and she wanted him or her now. Her silver eyes an angry misty glow, wandered about the plains looking for a fresh carcass. A new sun was rising, it lit some of the darkest corners around, spiders scurrying back to escape the harsh light. Unfurling his leathery bat like wings the Necrosphinx hissed angrily at the brightness of the enormous star emitting rays of glorious heat.

A Necrosphinx wasn't a natural creature. They were humans kidnapped by the witches and warlocks of old, their bodies altered by dark magic, skin turned silver, eyes a coal black and hair an eerie white, an undead monster.

"Easy Nathan, easy," soothed Fran patting her pet gently, as she looked across the Tâita Sea, wondering if it was best she returned to her home land Bian'Dur.

Bian'Dur was the largest of the three mystic lands, Findabhair the next and finally Galrï. Bian'Dur unfortunately had been captured by humans and Galrï was soon on its way of being dominated by the non magic brutes. Only Findabhair stayed protected, but that too would soon change. At least if Fran had anything to do with it.

Sighing deeply Adara continued to stroke Nathan, who purred happily next to her.

"Why do they persist in annoying me Nathan? They have intended to send another two out to slay me." She laughed bitterly, "another pair of heads to add to my collection."

With a snide smile Fran clasped the eagle claw hanging from her neck, the runes shining red. It was time to let the sun go black, let the earth shake and the games begin.

* * *

XxX

* * *

As the carriage tottered on, Spencer spent most of his time glancing at Will more and more hoping at least that he wouldn't catch him looking. The silent Nightshade had captured his interest, but maybe not as much as the sleeping woman now leaning against his shoulder. Her breath flowed gently from her whishing against Spencer's cheek, body heat warm and enticing. She stirred feelings in the young elf he didn't know existed and he didn't even know her name, nor would he humiliate himself by asking Derek.

King Derek also snoozed happily beside Will, no amount of jostling awakening him from his delightful slumber. Attention thinning, quickly drifting back toward the window Spencer took in the scenery. He had seen it all before, but there was no harm in looking at it a second time. With a sigh he closed his eyes, drinking in the scent of fresh growing lilies, the smell a dreadful reminder of death, his parent's death. He would never forget it; never remove the alarming image from his mind.

As usual he had been outside the town wandering around the small patch of a secluded canopy of trees that were drooping near the entrance of Sluain. Small children had been weaving in and out of the aging bark playing their little games when a horrible cry of pain rang out into the skies. Blood, there had been so much of it, crimson red, reeking of rust and death. She had been dead before Spencer had reached her, his mother's eyes lifeless and staring. Fran had taken his father next with cruel swiftness. Still the screams raged, and he had stood there, tears hot and frothy flowing from honey eyes waiting, hoping she would kill him too. But she hadn't and that was worse than death.

Sparing him had left Spencer to live with his ever piercing guilt that sickened his belly whenever he thought on it. He may not have held the sword that killed Yuki and Alu, but he failed as a son when he did not protect them.

"What are your reasons to seek Fran?"

Eyes bursting open, somewhat shocked Spencer directed his gaze across at the curious Nightshade, he was slightly startled he had spoke to him, and had the inkling feeling the Nightshade had been poking around in his memories. For a few seconds he was silent and then casually said; "Why are you seeking her Nightshade?"

Will suppressed a chuckle, fixing the boy with his gold eyes that slanted a little. Spencer noticed how his top lip was a darker shade of red to his bottom, and only then did he notice the three gold loops dangling from his left ear. It coming to a sharper and longer point then he had ever seen on any elf. There was a gentleness sparkling in the depths of the shining gold, making Spencer have to constantly remind himself that Will was a demon.

"Inquisitive," Will said after much silence, a sneer flickering across his face, sharp fanged teeth gleaming wickedly below his top lip, "or just secretive."

Spencer didn't respond, for there was nothing to respond to. He was finding it quite difficult to keep being, in some way, polite to Will. He didn't act as if he wanted to be friendly, or cared if Spencer liked or disliked him. It was almost as if he preferred people to hate him.

"My name is William," stated Will when the boy said nothing, "Will, will do. Am I understood Spencer?"

Nodding reluctantly Spencer did his best to contain his anger and went back to staring out the window. Trees danced by, rabbits burrowing just by the base of their trunks as a gentle breeze decorated the skies. A shadow appeared amongst the green, gathering speed, unseen by the procession. Whatever it was it whipped through the feathery under bush, through brambles and finally onto the main road. With a sadistic grin rising on the creatures face, it waited patiently for its coming prey.

No one noticed the passing stranger, not even Spencer who had been so engrossed with events outside the carriage. Something told him, there was more to Will then the eye could see. But there was no point in dwelling on that, not with more important matters.

The journey continued in a dead silence. A mild twittering of birds the only sounds and then suddenly the carriage came to an abrupt halt, causing Derek to wake with a start. Annoyed he climbed out and spoke with his driver. A murmured conversation was exchanged and the problem identified. Someone was standing a few feet away in the middle of the road. Poking his head out Will realised it was a Necrosphinx, grinning snidely down at them. A small discomfort was there too, from the monster's dislike of the sun. The young Nightshade found this strange, since the Necrosphinx usually attacked in packs and never came out in the day light. A small growl behind him made him look back.

"That is Nathan," snarled Spencer angrily, "he is Fran's pet."

Eyes widening Will whipped out two samurai swords, emeralds lustrous along their hilts. Spencer unsheathed his elf blades, the old runes emitting a spooky flush. If Nathan was blocking them it could only mean one thing, Fran was close by. As if on cue a high pitched laugh erupted throughout the skies, startling animals and sending the birds flying from the safety of their nests. A horrible screech followed soon after when a blue-black griffin soared over a cheering Nathan, her claws outstretched, ready to grasp her quarry.

"That's it Aoi," Fran cackled from on top of a crumbling sand dune close by, "Kill them all!"

Rearing up the horses knocked their masters to the ground before bolting. Even the two pulling the carriage broke free and ran, in a flurry of startled neighs. They felt the griffin narrowly miss them before she soared upward, beating her sloe black wings mightily. She was teasing them now, enjoying their frantic attempts to escape her.

The seven men and one woman stood huddled together swords and arrows at the ready. Waiting and watching the clouded sky.

Will could smell and hear her as Aoi braced herself to pounce. Using sound he attempted to seek her out, but she was moving at too great a speed. Then hurtling out from the depths of the drooping trees kicking up the water from the Nera River, Aoi snatched up one of the nearest guards and was gone again, his sword hitting the ground with a dull clang. Her screeches and his howls the only sounds adrift the darting winds.


	3. Two: Fevered Mind

DISCLAIMER: **I do not own Criminal Minds or its characters! The World I have created and its places are fully of my imagination :) So enjoy!**

AUTHOR'S NOTE: **Ooookay next chapter! Elvin language is completely my own creation-Except for certain names. Enjoy!  
**

**IntoTheWilds**

**xxx**

* * *

Chapter Two:

**_Fevered Mind:_**

The light of the sun beamed down upon the Galrï sand. Dancing over the Biska's crystal waters and glistening over a small village west of Croi. Everyone bustled about preparing for the grand festival. The village was called Nehâ meaning beautiful, for it was beautiful. It was built near a marvellous oasis, in the middle of the Kiya desert, blooming with flowers and magnificent greenery, more wonderful than even the king's gardens. As every man, woman and child ran about doing their daily duties, they were carefully watched by a hooded figure on the mountainside, a stranger waiting for something magical.

Laughter sang through glittering skies as the festival began. Young men and women danced to stunning music as the children sat listening to the village story-teller, Õhâi as he jubilantly made a spectacle of himself, waving his arms about cawing like a bird and all with a little twinkle in the old elf's yellow hawk like eyes. Ëna, Õhâi's pretty wife swerved in and out of the moving crowds, serving fruit and wine to any who wanted it, a euphoric smile on her gold dust face. Blue eyes so dark, they were almost black, like fresh cut sapphires. Everyone was joyous and exhilarated, just elated with excitement.

The mighty sun glimmered over a stage, while a crowd gathered around it, the hooded stranger from before pushed through the crowd, nearly knocking poor Ëna to the dusty earth and took a seat directly at the front. He removed the hood which covered his face revealing a youthful man no older than nineteen or twenty, with tanned skin and strangely silver hair, his eyes a soft chocolate brown. He waited and watched as a beautiful young woman came out onto the stage and began to perform a delightful dance to the five Gods of mercy, chaos, fire, water and destruction. Each year they had the same celebration in order to keep the beings of the sky happy.

It was a cool summer's day in Nehâ, clear blue skies all around. However, no one was watching the sky; all eyes were on the mysterious young woman. As she danced gracefully in her fine Galrï silks. The men gazed longingly at her, fixated on her beauty. Not one of them had seen a delicate desert flower as enchanting as her before. Men were jeering at her and making animal calls. She ignored them and turned to see one man admiring her more than others. She saw him sitting there watching her every move. Not being able to help it, she smiled and he replied with a smile, one she noticed that was more forced then real.

The stranger sat amongst the crowd, listening to their jabbering while he watched the slim frame of the light skinned, blonde haired woman. 'She would be a fine jewel in my crown', he thought savagely. Leaning back in his seat he gave her an appraising look, an almost burning in his loins. He could have her easily enough; she was probably a whore from the brothel houses and would lay with any man willing to take her. Most girls her age and of her class were put in them to get money for their starving families, pity of course if that were the case seeing as she looked like a very intelligent woman. Shifting his weight the man carelessly tapped his index finger along his top lip. He was all about what he saw he wanted and what he wanted he'd no doubt have. He was one of the greatest thieves in Galrï and he had escaped the king's clutches of more than one kingdom on many occasions. Of course he was not what he seemed, no one ever was. He liked the woman he greedily stared at, his eyes feasting on her blurred form and could sense something in her that he had never sensed before.

"I shall have her," the stranger growled to no one in particular, "and whatever power it is she may possess."

The crowd clapped and cheered as the performance came to an end. The woman bowed gratefully. Jumping from the stage she headed back to her tent to change from glamorous queen, back to once again a lonely peasant girl. A noise outside her tent caught her attention, she was situated far from the village and who knew what could be lurking outside. She walked out into the darkening day, a frigid blanket of cold covering her lily skin the sun hidden by a cloud, and called out;

"Who is there?"

She looked around unsure of her surroundings and feeling very vulnerable, mentally she scolded herself for stupidly not bringing her pair of Katana. They would have been very useful right about then.

"I mean it, this is not funny," she said with a small shake in her singsong voice, "now come out from wherever it is you are hiding."

The group of men who had been taunting her before emerged from the shadows of a tilting tree.

"Careful what you ask for sweetie," said one of them gruffly, a horrible bulge in his groin.

She suddenly felt sick, her blood running cold, like shards of ice in her veins.

"W—hat d-do you w-ant?" She stammered.

The tallest of the men stepped forward. He was brutish, killer through and through, a retired soldier most likely only about thirty in age, but it was hard to tell. A huge scar tinted his once handsome face. A gaping hole where his eye should be along with the pink blemish and a few more breaks and tears, he looked quite disfigured. His injuries, however, suggested he could take a slash of any weapon and come back smiling, making him all the more dangerous.

"We want a private show, isn't that right boys?"

His comrades laughed ruthlessly.

"Defiantly a private show just for us," they sang in chorus, laughter coating each mocking word they spoke.

She gulped knowing exactly how this would all end up and tried hard not to dwell on how much it would hurt. At that stage the young woman was completely surrounded. There was nowhere to run, nowhere to hide and unfortunately her magic had departed long ago. One of the men shoved her to the ground and pinned her down.

"Come on girlie, time for some fun."

He laughed boisterously, breath reeking of some strong Nehâ wine. Oh naturally she was about to be assaulted by men who were most clearly staggered drunk, just perfect. Giving into instinct she screamed out in desperation as her fear rapidly took over.

"HELP ME PLEASE! SOMEONE HELLLP"

The men advanced toward her nonetheless, full of joy at the dread in her river blue eyes and laughter at her weak attempts to break free. She struggled feebly and without result.

"Please, someone help," she whimpered.

Unexpectedly a shout echoed from across the sanded grounds, "STOP!"

The woman looked up petrified tears streaming from her eyes landing in glistening droplets on her alabaster skin. She gasped; there he was again, the man she had seen before, his silver hair glowing eerily in the moonlight. She was pulled to her feet roughly and held onto a little too tightly. It hurt her.

"Let me go," she demanded.

"I don't think so honey," he replied, "We are far from being finished with you."

The colour drained from her face as the silver-haired man stepped forward, anger in his gaze. The sun drifted along his still form, shimmering over bronzed skin and illuminated an interesting tattoo covering his forearm. It was a distinct intricate design of the moon and for those who knew what it meant it was far more than just a pretty picture. He possessed no weapons, but he had neither need nor a use for them

"Release her at once," he barked.

The one holding the woman laughed and said, "Do you hear that Zara? He's giving us commands."

The tallest of the men smirked.

"I hear him Haruko, but we ain't doing as he says, so Kanna, Arikaba and Hatzu get rid of our annoyance."

The outsider stood calmly as the three men near enough marched toward him. Surprisingly they had no weapons to speak of either and probably intended to use sheer brawn to make their apparent threats heard. A vicious leer crossed the newcomers face.

"Fools," he snapped, "you dare challenge me?"

Hatzu laughed, a sound like rusted nails being scratched vigorously along shards of broken glass.

"You're no challenge for us; we'll take you out easily."

Hatzu raised his fist, muscles rippling beneath sloe-black skin and ran at the man with star like hair. He dodged it easily and using his own fist knocked Hatzu unconscious. He swerved around with delighted chuckle.

"Would anyone else care to try their luck against me?" He asked, "I have all night and I am quite enjoying myself."

Kanna and Arikaba teamed up and charged him together. The stranger smiled smugly.

"Two against one, what an unfair advantage however I can do better."

He raised his hand above his head in a somewhat dramatic gesture and cried out, "ÄRIA SHOW THESE WORTHLESS PEASANTS WHAT FIGHTING REALLY IS!" A bright glow emitted from his closed fist, there was a burst of blinding light as the stranger laughed and called out in hostile tones, "Come forth my mighty beast."

The men gazed up in horror at a creature that towered above the height of twenty men. It was a full grown vicious dragon. Throwing back her head the dragon known as Äria released a terrible roar while it ripped up her lengthy throat. A chain decorated with old elfin runes hung about her scaly neck, the man's only form of control over the fierce midnight beast. Silver hair flitting around his face the unwanted visitor laughed ruthlessly before bellowing out. "LET THE GAMES BEGIN"

All the while the young woman watched in horror whilst the treacherous scene progressed. She was still wriggling away, trying her hardest to get free from Haruko's iron grip, wanting to get far from the men and the creature as soon as possible. She had heard of many men and women with magic and of the monstrous creatures some would call their pets. But she had never seen one till that day. The ferocious animal that was Äria circled her victims getting ready to pounce, spiked tail flicking back and forth, jagged points strong enough to tear through stone, a deep growl rising in her gullet. In a weak moment Haruko threw the young woman to the ground looking for an escape route. She fell hard, piercing her side deeply against a toothed stone jutting up out of the earth. Blinded by a tremendous wave of pain she scrambled out of harm's way as quickly as she could and while losing blood ever so slightly. She knew the wound was bad, but there was nothing she could do now, except pray to the Gods.

The stranger had the five men backed into a corner, cowering with fright and begging for their lives.

"I must say this was fun," said the silver-haired outsider, "but all good things must come to an end. Now, we finish this."

The men gazed up in terror, wincing painfully from the cuts and bruises they had received.

"Please," begged Zara pitifully, "Have mercy and spare our lives. We will do no harm to the girl."

'Humans' thought the stranger, 'How pathetic.'

He laughed cold-bloodedly, eyes blistering. "I am sorry Zara but I do not do mercy, I barely do compassion."

With a leer he turned to his ever obedient dragon, her yellow eyes searing brightly, claws making profound incisions in the sandy terrain.

"Now Äria finish these fools," he snarled ending in an inhuman shout, "BURN THEM!"

Standing on her hind legs Äria opened her jaws wide; with one violent wail a great stream of black fire erupted from her opened mouth incinerating the men in seconds. Their final screams the most terrible sound ever heard. The young woman heard their petrified yelling and cries of agony. Crawling from her hiding place she found the area in complete devastation. Alarmed howls assaulted her ears from down in the Nehâ village, they too had witnessed the destruction. Fire burned everywhere licking, caressing the blackening earth, everything had been destroyed and her attackers were nowhere to be seen, just angry flames and shady ground.

Suddenly she heard footsteps approaching and looking up to see, she found a man walking towards where she lay. Her vision was blurred from pain and she couldn't make out who it was, she hoped desperately it wasn't one of the men who tried to hurt her before.

Feebly she made one more attempt to get up but failed, everything went out of focus as she collapsed and was embraced by quiet solitude.

* * *

XxX

* * *

Will fell against a broken tree trunk, sliding down it out of sight, a downside to being a Nightshade, you received visions no matter the pressure you were currently under, or no matter how inconvenient the time happened to be. The young seer had unfortunately lost focus for mere minutes when images of a silver-haired man, a frightened woman and glimpses of Galrï flashed through his mind at a rapid pace. He gripped his sword weakly as he tried to stop the blood spurting out of his left thigh. An injury he had encountered after his mild and pointless distraction.

"God damn it!" He hissed through gritted teeth.

To think, he would die at the hands of a psychotic siren.

"Come out, come out little William," called Fran teasingly.

He was dealing with her, or at least trying to, while Spencer and the others dealt with an angry griffin and Nathan. He hoped they were faring better than he was.

"Do not be frightened. I only plan to cut out your heart and hang your limp body from the gates of Kalila to warn anyone," she spat venomously, "not to dare betray me like you have!"

Will's chest rose with each ragged breath, he was losing a vast amount of blood leaving him dizzy and weak. Wincing he pulled himself silently as he could through plants, brambles that cut into his skin and splinters of falling debris. Fran still bounced creative threats off of him, so Will was mighty hopeful she couldn't hear him. Unexpectedly a hand came over his mouth stopping his yelp escaping and he was shocked to see Spencer smiling gently at him.

"Do not worry my friend," he whispered gently, "I am here to help."

Lifting his head slightly Spencer's pointed ears twitched softly as he listened to Fran's whereabouts. Still the woman screamed out obscenities as she kicked bitterly at a fallen branch. Thankfully she was moving away from where Will and Spencer were currently positioned. Getting back to the job at hand the golden-eyed elf bent down toward Will and touching the wound his eyes glowed vibrantly an evergreen shade. A strange sensation tingled around and inside the Nightshade's skin, causing him to try desperately hard not to push Spencer away. In seconds Will's deep gash was no more, but for a sliver of a light pink scar. Chest heaving he smiled gratefully.

"Thank you."

A hoarse cackle arose throughout the land, chilling the deepest recesses of the mind. Fran stood proud and tall on the back of her griffin Aoi, the beast snarling beneath her as she looked over her destructive work eyes sparkling with defiant mischief. Spencer, Will, Derek and his female friend were all who were left standing, all of whom now stood waiting for Fran's next move. Blood lay in patches strewn across the once gold soil. It spiralled in messy tendrils up the nearest tree trunks, an ugly reminder of what Aoi had done to the soldiers.

"Do not look so worried Derek," spat the siren darkly, "I am finished for now. But I shall be back little king, make no mistake of that!"

Cascading waters rose rapid and threatening from a rippling Nera river, spitting angrily. Like a blanket it covered Fran as she made her escape, her laughter the loudest sound to be heard amongst splashes of water and Derek's vengeful howls.

Control of water was always a nice trick siren's possessed, from the water they came and to it they would someday return. In Fran's case, hopefully sooner than later. Without any horses the four continued on foot towards the Is'La village at the edge of the Ali forest. There they would receive help, food and shelter. The silence was thankfully dimming as birds returned to nests and startled animals to their burrows or leafy shelters.

Derek limped ahead silently crimson blood trickling from a minor graze on his left thigh, it stung but wasn't fatal. The young king was clearly annoyed with himself, an awful feeling continuously plucked at his heart strings, the powerful muscle thunderous in his heaving chest.

It was almost as if Fran had only wanted to slow them down, but why? What motive could she possibly have?

Most people have a reason to kill, revenge, survival. But Fran, she did not destroy lives for a way to benefit herself, to gain something of value.

She didn't set lands ablaze for vengeance.

She did it just to watch the earth burn.

* * *

XxX

* * *

The woman's eyes flickered open while she released small groans. She felt drowsy and was unsure of where she was. Sitting up slowly she looked around to find she sat in a large room. Dusted crates lay broken and scattered over an old sandstone floor. It was some sort of abandoned food store.

Remembering her injury she pulled up her blood stained servants gown to see the wound. To her surprise it had been cleaned and stitched. She felt bursts of pain with every tiny move she made.

"Ouch! Moving is an unwise idea," she whined.

"The pain should subside by the morning," stated a gruff voice from the shadows. She recognised it and turned to see the silver-haired man sitting his brown eyes fixed upon her. The stranger studied her silently. "What is your name girl?" He finally asked.

She looked at him unsure if she should answer. He could feel the lack of trust in her. "I'm not going to hurt you," he said softly, "I just wish to know your name."

She gazed at him, eyes moving up and down taking in his handsome frame, not once bothering to not let what she was doing show. Glancing over his stern smile, scarred face she looked deep into his eyes, in a way, searching to see if he truly did not mean her any harm. Finding nothing but a black pit of emptiness she straightened herself, wincing with each and every move.

"My name is Diana," she gasped, "what is yours may I ask?"

"I am Rossi."

The name hit her like cold water, or better yet a tonne of broken rubble. Now she understood why her blood had chilled at the sight of him. Rossi was a blood-thirsty murderer, a complete earthquake tremor in a stable society. A normal thief or killer would have been on easy challenge but Rossi wasn't normal, no he happened to be a God, the God of chaos to be exact. Climbing out of bed Diana lay in she moved as fast as her bruised and beaten body would allow. He watched her uncertain of what she was doing, her sunny hair tumbled to one side of her slim body uncovering her face and revealing a pointed ear. So that was the magic he had sensed in her. This dazzlingly beauty was an elf.

A shaving of un-trust seeped slowly into his bones; he suddenly didn't care for what she was up to.

"Diana you are badly injured and weak. You need to rest," Stated Rossi with pretend concern. Her brilliant blue eyes found him, and he saw their warmth had suddenly died leaving them narrowed cold shards of frigid glass.

Now he knew she was perfectly aware who he was.

"I'm fine Rossi, honestly."

Her gaze jumped from him to the door, it was wide open, a perfect escape, if and only if she could get to it. "I just need some fresh air."

The gathering realisation of what she was stupidly about to attempt flashed across the chaos God's face and with the reflexes of a jungle cat he jumped in front of the door, arms folded across his chest and a dangerous smile curving his lips, making him all the more intimidating to look at.

"Going somewhere my dear?" He asked slyly.

The only other way out was the window. It was a good two foot drop, naturally it had to be, but what other choice did she have. In three quick strides Diana crossed the spacious room and vaulted out the opened gap before Rossi could stop her.

For a few endless moments time stood still as she near enough spun midair, almost skilfully as if she did things like this all the time. Landing heavily Diana sucked in a scream as intense pain coursed through her veins, like molten hot magma had replaced her blood. Very much fuzzy headed she heard Rossi in what sounded to her as muffled tones already making what only could be commands to have her recaptured. She twisted and bowed, skulking low to see four horses in a stable and only one man guarding them. On closer inspection Diana realised he was a Nightshade. His name was Kane. Frightfully, she did not recognise the land as Galrï, but she knew by the horses where she was. For you could only find their breed in one place, she somehow resided in Bian'Dur.

Not wasting any more time dwelling on her unwelcomed predicament she coaxed nearer to her decided target. The Nightshade sentinel stood at nearly seven foot tall, had enough muscle for two men and a huge accumulation of scarring on his left side, as if he had been the unfortunate victim to an out of control fire. Diana was no match for his enormous build, but she may be fast enough. Jumping the old sycamore fencing she ignored his enraged bellow, dodged his first attacking manoeuvre and dropped-kicked the burly figure, before the Nightshade could scramble up and retaliate, Diana had already awkwardly pulled herself up onto the back of the only saddled and strongest looking mare of her small herd. Obviously the guarding Nightshade wasn't the brightest, for he simply gaped dumbfounded at the escapee now in the middle of stealing a horse.

"Come on girl, time to go." Diana encouraged softly.

She neighed agitated, unclear of whom her new mistress was, but obeyed her commands and just in time to seeing as Kane had taken that very moment to reawaken and barrel toward her. Fast but not fast enough. Diana and her newly acquired mare, who she had secretly named Iluvia, launched themselves back over the stable fence away from Kane's vicious profanities and the clutches of Rossi. She rode hard and fast into the night in the direction of Ze'Ri a small secure town on the border of the Azzar forest. From there she would travel to the town of Den'Séi and go straight to the shipping docks.

Rossi looked on as his prey became nothing more than a spec on the horizon. A deep annoyance flared in the God's chest. He felt like killing someone, just to burst and loose complete control, if only for a moment it would wash him in some sort of warm contentment. He, however, thought better of it. It wouldn't take much to discover where it was she was heading and they were on the edge of the human border, miles from anywhere, especially the solitude of a protected town or city.

"Should we go after her master," Asked one of his men.

"No, let her go," Rossi answered, "we shall catch up with her soon enough."

Brown eyes burning Rossi ventured back inside, a gleeful smirk spreading upon his lips at the delightful chase that was to come.

* * *

XxX

* * *

Will hissed through clenched teeth, leaning against an ancient pine tree. His head throbbed dully with a migraine headache, images searing through his brain, fleetingly haunted visions washed in through his own jumbled thoughts.

Looking up from the small fire he had just lit, Spencer watched him curiously, the sun setting swiftly in the distance lighting the sky in a burnt orange and purple hue. On and off the young elf watched Will stumble releasing whines of displeasure. Derek and his female friend ignored it as if it were perfectly normal behaviour. It bothered him though, to see others in pain and pulling a bottle of elfin mead out of his sack he held it out toward Will. Eyes, the gold irises glittering, awash with fury and misery Will tilted his head sideways untrusting of Spencer's actions. Whatever was in the bottle smelled of lilies and roses combined, it was unbelievably enticing, reminding him of the luxurious plants and colourful flowers growing within the trees of the Ali forest. The happy notion relaxed him slightly, but the ache was still there, shaking his head in an attempt to clear some of the dreary fog, he took the bottle from him Will and rasped out hoarsely.

"What is it?"

"Drink," Spencer coaxed pushing the delightfully scented liquid nearer, "It will staunch the visions that torture you so."

Growling with rage as it took over him, Will thrust the bottle back towards Spencer and stalked off, leaving the elf greatly puzzled. Taking a gulp of the mead himself, he crossed his legs in a meditative position, wishing the rest of the world away that is until.

"I believe you stung his pride."

Startled Spencer turned to see her there, hair flowing in warm waves, skin shining brighter than any jewel. The very sun seemed to radiate from her beautiful smile. The young elf fought the great desire to jump up and embrace her.

He simply smiled half-heartedly, "How so?"

Sitting next to him, she began plucking daisies from the lush grass at her feet; quite focused she set about making a chain out of the small flowers. Her slim fingers gentle, as if the petals were the most precious thing in the world to her. Spencer watched her entranced. She was just so different from the women of the elfin population, and he had lived long enough to make that assumption.

Not once had she bothered about formalities, or asked his permission to speak, like most elf girls and women did and it drove him crazy. But this ebony haired splendour was daring, bold and cared little for mannerly introduction, or speaking when spoken to. Spencer was sure he was falling in love; either that or he was finally losing his mind after all these years.

Finally she spoke, her voice as smooth as fresh cream, "My name is Desiree."

This made him grin amused, "Desired one?"

Desiree's silver eyes darted upward as she studied him closely, just a little bit stunned if nothing else. He truly was far more appealing than any other elf she had met, and not just in appearance. He obviously had brains to burn, an intelligence that surpassed many others.

"You are familiar with the old language then?"

Leaning back he shrugged, in a, is it really that important move.

"Parts of it, Elfin and the tongue human's speak comes easier to me. I do not even know where the old tongue originates from."

And maybe she was wrong about his vast knowledge, Oh well he wasn't too old to learn.

"Nightshades," she began continuing with her necklace, "Are the oldest of the races, even elders to the Elves. Their knowledge of the world greatly exceeds that of our own and what we know as the old tongue is the speech of the Nightshades."

Spencer blinked somewhat taken aback. He didn't think anything was or had been older then the Elves, other than the mighty Dragons who took solitude within the Kannek mountains in Findabhair and the high peaks of the Nalda mountains in Bian'Dur.

He himself happened to be a lot older then he let Derek believe. This made him wonder were Nightshades just as ageless.

"Their gifts," Desiree went on, "Are not for us to question, understand or even block."

"I was just—."

"I know Spencer, but it was not your place to interfere. Will is powerful, painfully so. Many Nightshades are usually just clairvoyants, oracles or seers whichever term you prefer. But Amir is an empath also, a rare occurrence even for them. So you must know of his burden?"

"I do," Spencer sighed, "he feels what he sees and others emotions, but why would he not allow me to relieve it?"

Desiree merely shrugged eyes on her work.

"Would you have a bind put on your magic if it caused such trouble or would you prefer to embrace it?"

Slipping the daisy bracelet upon his wrist, Desiree skipped off back to where Derek sat a dark scowl upon the king's brow. Head hurting, Spencer didn't know how to answer her riddled speech. Would he prefer peace over discomfort, even if the magic could prove to be a great usefulness? He already knew the answer to that question after witnessing more then he needed of the humans destruction of each other and everything else. Sighing deeply he retreated inward and lost himself within his own train of thought. He felt a breath against his ear as the wind whispered soothingly, finally at one with his surroundings, a smile crept upon his face. All troubles suddenly no more.

* * *

XxX

* * *

Grumbling to himself Will traipsed the last mile or so to Is'La in an attempt to escape his own distracted thinking that slammed against him like a makeshift battering ram. The further he got from civilisation the clearer his head got and then confusion hit. He knew nothing of the female elf he kept envisioning, yet she was somewhat familiar to him. Reaching out he sought out her emotions a tired defence attacked his efforts, but he still evaded their reach and entered her mixed thoughts, straight away he could tell her injury had weakened her greatly and knew sadly she would not last long without medical attention. Picking through shrouds of broken thoughts and reeds of, repressed memories, Will learned who the maiden was and the knowledge startled him. Her name, from what he gathered was Diana, meaning something in the elfin dialect. He would have Spencer translate for him later, what startled him though, was the likeness between her and Spencer, the same shape to their faces, skin tone and similar expressions. Apart from their eyes and hair, they could've been twins. Releasing his bind on her he galloped back through the skies, back to himself and fell against a boulder panting heavily, sucking in sharp gusts, there were many ways in which to scry and this one he could never get used to.

Gulping clumps of oxygen back into his lungs, he set forth again. He just made it over the hill to the edge of the Ali forest, when he found himself loosing balance and sank to his knees. Is'La had been destroyed; a charred circle of earth was all that remained, of the once pleasant village.

Waves of psychic energy engulfed him straight away, making him groan as he attempted to fight it off without success, he had no desire to see what had happened, alas, he hadn't the strength left to knock it back. Laughter, merriment rang in his ears, the men played on their elfin flutes as two young girls sang a song;

_"Ilkâ san le suëna nai,_

_Na'siar Kíal pao balkâ,_

_Ne ü romna alá nai,_

_Ne der a vi'siar tra..."_

The meaning was foreign to Will, but he still understood its beauty, then screams, distilled and weeping, piercing the stoniest of hearts. Will twisted, invisible to the villagers and watched as a pack of Necrosphinx, Fran's pet Nathan leading them, descended upon the people. They lit houses ablaze, knocked monuments and mutilated each and every villager they came in contact with. Some of the braver elves stood and fought, but they were terribly out-matched and quickly snuffed out.

The screams rose, louder, like a maddening crescendo of murderous rage and searing fury, it frightened Will and he was rarely scared. He realised tears were streaming down his ruby red cheeks and he didn't bother to wipe it away. Blood painted the ground, flowing from the dead and spurting sharply from those who were merely wounded, survivors scrambling back, wading through the crimson mess. Nathan landed wings fanned out atop of a young woman with flowing obsidian black curls, light gold skin and blue eyes, she was, Amir noticed disgusted heavily pregnant, but that didn't stop Nathan, with one vicious snarl he snapped her neck, making her go limp, cutting off her sobs and without hesitation began to feed on her already cooling flesh. Not far from there, Will cringed back, seeing two female Necrosphinx fight over a child of about ten, spitting and hissing at one another until they finally came to an agreement and to Will's complete horror, ripped the boy in half, giving them a piece each. He didn't know which was worse, the fact the boy's blood spilled out in a furious fountain, or the fact that he was still alive when they began to feed.

Fire swam around like a blazing river, destroying all it touched, licking at the pebbled earth, burning it with aggressive ferocity. Falling to his hands, gripping the ashy dirt in his palms Will bellowed long and hard, a mournful cry to the heavens, the premonition broke leaving him weeping on the blackened soil, no one near enough to comfort his awful turmoil. Silence, not even a bird existed there anymore.

Only then did he comprehend how much he truly hated his gift and yet he still refused to allow Spencer to block it for him. The land smelt pungent, death coiled up his nostrils making Will violently ill, getting shakily to his feet he wiped his mouth and tottered back towards camp, hoping his legs would hold his weight long enough for him to reach it and coming to the hill once more, he ran roaring deafeningly.

"DEREK, SPENCER, DESIREE!"

Believing they were under attack, the three grabbed their weapons as Will raced toward them, his hair a cape of darkness behind him.

"What is it boy?" Derek demanded to know when Amir finally reached them.

"Is'La," he gasped heavily leaning his hands on his knees, "completely destroyed—had a vision, a pack of Necrosphinx were responsible..."

Swearing colourfully Derek flung his sword down striking the pebbled ground with a ringing clatter, stalking off Desiree followed quickly behind him. Spencer's concern, however, was for Will.

"Are you alright...?" He pressed gently.

His eyes were cold and unclear.

"I do not know how to answer that Spencer, I really just don't know..."

A brisk wind cut across the land alerting all that night had gathered, time to lay heads down till the sun returned in the mourn, what it brought with it, no one knew, not even Will.


	4. Three: Dark Prince

DISCLAIMER: **I do not own Criminal Minds or its characters! The World I have created and its places are fully of my imagination :) So enjoy!**

AUTHOR'S NOTE: **Ooookay next chapter! Elvin language is completely my own creation-Except for certain names and thank you everyone who read it!  
**

**IntoTheWilds**

**xxx**

* * *

Chapter Three:

**_Dark Prince:_**

The fire sparked brightly, Spencer and Will sat across from one another, silent as the stars that had formed above them. Both Desiree and Derek had retired for the night, after changing their plans and deciding to head north-east, for the town Hirosha, Will's birth place.

"Will you be glad to return to Hirosha," Spencer asked quietly.

"Peten Bokü San," Will declared, eyes wide, "surely you jest? Elva'amnan."

Spencer frowned darkly, he hadn't understood all of what the Nightshade had just said, but he knew by his tone that he had just insulted him. Staring down at his shale plate, he poked glumly at the fruit sitting idle and already bruising. He had lost his appetite all of a sudden; Will of course continued to gorge himself on a large piece of Doe he had killed. He wanted to retaliate, but thought better of it and contented himself with humming a soft tune to calm his nerves.

Alert, Will listened a moment before asking, "What is that song...?"

"Ü Irä Na'alta, it means the New Dawning," Spencer replied.

"What does the song mean...?" Will asked him curiously.

Surprised at the Nightshades sudden interest he translated anyway.

"May the wind catch you?

On an endowment of wings,

As the gentle sir courts her,

As an elfin maid sings..."

Emerald eyes warm and wistful, Spencer sank his teeth into a rosy red apple.

"Why should elfin music interest you...? Surely you do not partake in our culture at all, Nightshades are rarely welcomed..."

"And why is that? Don't tell me some clap trap rubbish that you are more noble creatures, your body stinks of deceit elf, I am not stupid Spencer, for I know exactly who you are."

Stunned, he watched as Will stormed off into the falling curtains of the night.

* * *

XxX

* * *

A glorious sun washed over river Aillai in Bian'Dur, as a gentle breeze zigzagged around sand dunes and trees. Kicking up pebbles and raising the sand from its earthy slumber. A boy of thirteen sat down by the river, his appearance reflected in the crystal waters. Lightly silvered bangs surrounded his pale-coloured face, an old scar covering the left of it, working over his shoulder and part of the way over the left side of his chest and back, it was a remembrance of an old foe.

The rest of his hair was like sunshine falling down past his waist; it was bound back with a silky white sash. He was dressed in khaki green trous that he had cut at the knee; his top half was completely bare. The sun's rays glinted off an amazing tattoo atop of his massive scar, of a dragon. Starting from his shoulder it travelled down his back, one wing tattooed on his right arm and the tail snaking its way around his left leg. The tattoo represented strength, stamina, power and it also took away from the ugliness of the disfigurement defacing his youthful frame.

As the boy sat meditating he was being watched by a black-haired woman a few feet away from where he sat. Suddenly, without warning, she conjured up a ball of red fire and hurtled it at the boy, however a smile crept upon his face as he swiftly jumped up and moved out of harm's way, and standing there he faced his opponent.

"Come now Emily, you should know better..."

Smiling, Emily raised her fists ready for battle.

"You are fast Jack; let us see how fast..."

Once again she hurtled fire-balls at him, hair dancing about her like a live flame as she chortled merrily.

Slamming his palms into the ground, Jack manipulated the earth causing a wall of sand to rise up, having it smoulder the oncoming fireballs, with little difficulty.

Raising his tattooed arm a tide of water burst from Aillai's banks at his command and Emily looked on in awe. His powers were growing quickly, and his eyes blazed misty blue, the fire Goddess smiled and looked into those wild feral orbs as she said.

"Stand down my friend."

Releasing his control of the elements, the water fell back into the awaiting river with a noisy whooshing splash.

"Tired Emily...?" He joked, teasing her playfully.

Emily was elderly, but not by human standards, an ageless being, you would never have guessed her to be nearly over millennia old and still quite young, especially when she looked barely past twenty. Chuckling she signalled for him to sit next to her.

"No young one, I—"

At that moment a noise erupted throughout the clear blue skies, the distant beating of drums, loud and menacing. Jack listened carefully then growled.

"What is it...?" Asked Emily worried.

"Sacramental drums," grunted the boy, "the humans are killing again."

She stood listening intently.

"Go my friend, those drums are close and the humans thirst for blood."

Jack grabbed her wrist, a fearful glint in his bright eyes.

"Not without you."

"I shall be fine, now take Isakar and go!"

Her eyes were full of pleading, but Jack ignored it, shaking his head fiercely, and tears threatening to escape his luminous eyes.

"No, I can't, I won't," the boy protested.

Touching his cheek she smiled gently at him.

"They cannot hurt me; they would not dare attack a God..."

Her head shot up as an uproar of battle cries sounded throughout the area, the men were very close now and Jack's reluctance to leave would surely cost him his life. She snarled, her red eyes blazing.

"GO JACK, THAT'S AN ORDER NOT A SUGGESTION!"

She bellowed shoving him toward the trees.

Finally admitting defeat, Jack grabbed his small leather bag, concealing his Briarä-Slâ, or moon blade as the human's called it. A fierce weapon crafted by the Nightshades, it was about half a metre in length with a gold hilt engraved with old runes and decorated with slivers of rubies and amethyst. The blade itself was midnight black, a dark metal mined from the boundaries of Älta'nar or as the human's called it, Feral crypt, it also resided in Galrï.

Many had voiced the opinion that the metal was embedded with dark magic, black magic and any who wielded a blade made from such a substance had been deemed unstable and highly dangerous.

Better to be feared, thought Jack, people would think twice about killing you, or at least that is what he told himself.

He ran to where Isakar was tied, the fierce Griffin shrieked in anxiety, pulling on its reigns, trying desperately to break free. As the humans finally appeared, swords raised and ruthlessness in their eyes, Jack shivered with fear, his insides turning to ice.

"May the Gods help us all...?"

Cutting Isakar's binds, he scrambled onto the beasts back and in seconds the lion bird took to the skies, its large golden wings beating forcefully, as the wind carried them upward. Looking down Jack was glad to see Emily had done the smart thing and fled into the Azzar forest, leaving Jack hidden safely behind the clouds. The leader of the humans bellowed with rage, but a whimpering sound could be heard through his shouts.

Jack was outraged to see they had caught a young girl. Her white hair fell over her pale shoulders, her blue cat-like eyes filled with sorrow. Deep gashes were visible on her face and neck, and all over her arms.

Jack wanted to save her, but knew it was suicide, and then suddenly a burning agony erupted through his torso as an arrow struck him; he fell from Isakar with an outraged wail straight into the human's awaiting arms, like prey into a Dragon's grasp.

* * *

XxX

* * *

_/"No, please no," screamed a boy no younger then the age of ten._

_He was surrounded by scary, jeering faces and saw no means of escape._

_"No," he whimpered again._

_Blood seeped from many scratches on his pale body, his white hair stained with its crimson shade._

_He was roughly struck, causing him to fall to his knees._

_"Now Halfling, it's almost over," spat one of his attackers, a tall slender boy with a rat like face, big teeth and a pointed nose._

_Ropes were bound around his thin wrists and legs as he was swiftly tied down, too tired now to protest. Lifting his head up a little, he faced angry expressions._

_"What are you going to do with me?" He asked fear undeniable in his wavering voice._

_One of the boys in the group smirked, baring rotten teeth and foul smelling breath._

_"We're gonna teach you your rightful place, Hybrid filth!"_

_With that said, he held up a white-hot poker, letting it hover menacingly above the boy's face. He struggled once again, causing the ropes to cut deep into his pale flesh. _

_Dropping his head he wept loudly, fat hot tears gushing from his crystal blue eyes, but his private moment didn't last long as his head was quickly yanked back by tufts of his snowy white hair._

_The boy yelped, watching as the taunting weapon inched closer._

_Seconds later he cried out in agony when the sharp blistering object sank deep into his eyes, burning away his retinas and leaving him sightless./_

* * *

Mateo awoke with a violent jolt, sweat pouring down his pale face and dampening his hair that was in a tangled white mess. Looking around, all he could see was blackness, his milky white optics taking in nothing. Using his heightened hearing, he listened for danger; the usual sounds of a summer's morning met his awaiting ears.

A thrush in a nearby tree, a mouse below the earth, beneath his bare feet, no threat could be found among the many sounds. Satisfied, Mateo threw back his bear-skin blanket and taking his spear stumbled towards Lake Adham for his morning bathe, that night's dreams hanging over him still.

Now a strong well-built teenager of eighteen, eight long years had passed since the group of boys tortured him and left him for dead, his eyes scarred so bad he'd never see again. Halfling's or Hybrid's were children born of one human and one elfin parent. Feared and hated by humans and a lot of magical folk, mostly due to difference in their appearance and natural magical abilities.

Mateo had spent a majority of his life that he remembered, the first ten years unfortunately foggy, being shunned, but he never really cared.

It was a beautiful sunny day and the sun shone over farms and villages as young Mateo knelt beside the lake skilfully skinning a deer he had caught the night before.

Many would have believed him incapable of such a task, due to his blindness, but he never allowed this one flaw to stop him at anything.

Beads of sweat gathered along his brow as he continued to work alone in the blazing sun.

However, Mateo wasn't as alone as he thought.

A young dark-skinned, black-haired girl watched him carefully through hazel eyes from a high cliff. She had been stalking him seven days now, waiting for the opportunity to strike him down. Silently she strung her bow, then drew two arrows and knocked one holding the other in her left hand. Creeping closer she kept her bow ready, eagle feathers tickling her cheek from the end of her arrow. She took a last steadying breath and raised her bow into position, directing it at Mateo's back.

Senses tingling he could feel someone watching him, a woman, by her gentle movements caressing the earth. Despite her silence he could still hear her and smiling to himself he continued to work allowing her to believe he had not noticed.

Smiling gleefully the girl pulled back on the string releasing the arrow. "I have won," she thought triumphantly.

The arrow bolted from where she lay straight at Mateo, whirling through the air, but somehow it stopped inches from him, suspended in mid-air. The girl gasped as he turned to her, his face contorted with rage and eyes glowing midnight.

"Who are you...?" He barked as he knocked the arrow aside, his voice hollow and ghost-like.

She didn't answer, but instead released a fierce battle cry and charged toward him, dagger raised above her head.

Mateo used the earth to sense her position and could feel her presence moving swiftly towards him. There was a hint of danger in the air; he could smell its scent on the wind.

Closing his eyes Mateo waited using sound to guide him.

The first attack came from his left and he dodged it easily, he could feel the girl's frustration rising, just like the Kiar Ocean on a high tide. Sneering, he escaped attack after attack. When he could tell she was tired he knocked her to the ground and held her firmly in place, pinning her wrists with his hands and her legs with his knees just in case she attempted to kick him in an unpleasant place.

"LET ME GO HYBRID!" She shrieked, absolutely furious.

Mateo refused to oblige and she continued to buck and squeal, thrashing in his grasp but soon realised it was no use, Mateo was far too strong. Finally calming herself she asked.

"What must I do for you to let me go?"

This made Mateo laugh.

"Your name would suffice," he answered.

She rolled her eyes, not really wanting to answer and eventually let out a sigh and said.

"My name is Sarah."

Sarah looked up into his pale face and was shocked to see he was blind. As he promised he let her go. Sarah lifted herself up off the ground watching him with vague interest.

Apart from his white hair and pale skin he had a well toned body, evidence of a strong warrior, like an elf his ears were pointed, but slightly lengthier, she noticed he had a three pieced jagged scar on the left side of his neck, probably from a puma or a bear.

His snowy hair fell down to his waist, in a lengthy braid, and a messy fringe hid his fore-head, drooping a little over his eyes, not that he noticed.

He was different, but handsome and before she could stop herself, Sarah blurted out. "What is your name?"

"Mateo," he answered politely.

Frowning a little, Sarah tilted her head, studying him curiously. "If you don't mind me asking, how is it a blind boy can fight so well?"

Mateo laughed and went to answer when an explosion erupted from nowhere.

Startled Sarah looked in the direction of black smoke billowing up towards the sky, in ashy spirals. It was coming from somewhere up the river near Ze'Ri. Heart wrenching screams assaulted her ears and she jumped when Mateo suddenly grabbed her arm.

"What's happening...?"

She could sense fear in his milky eyes. Sarah knew it had to be her father and the others causing havoc.

"Tell me Sarah, please!" Mateo pleaded.

Gently touching his cheek, she whispered.

"The war has begun..."

And before he knew it, or before he had any chance of stopping her, she whipped out her dagger and stabbing it in his right thigh, left a gaping hole in his soft white flesh. Mateo yowled like a cat that had just been kicked, blood spilling freely. Gripping his hands over the wound, he backed away panic-stricken, stumbling slightly. His head shot up as a vicious roar echoed throughout the valley, chills ran through him and heaving with sickness Mateo found himself on all fours.

The last he heard before falling into the abyss, were Sarah's swift footsteps and the shrill cry of an angry griffin.

* * *

XxX

* * *

Jack moaned groggily, pins and needles in his side. Opening his eyes he saw he was in a large tent, a cloth opening tied back. The suns position told him it was nearing midday; chains were bound around his ankles and wrists, magical barriers embedded in the cold metal.

Groaning he pulled himself into a sitting position. He was surprised to see the humans had stitched him up and had obviously given him something for the pain. He was amazed, having been sure they'd let him bleed to death.

A few feet away lay the white-haired girl he had seen before.

She was slumbering silently, the light glinting over two silver loops in her left pale pointed ear.

She wasn't an elf he knew that much. She had to be a Halfling. Whimpering slightly she stirred, her eyes bursting open as the frightened girl quickly came too, sitting back on her honkers, her dress pulled tight around a swollen belly and Jack's eyes widened in shock, a flash of rage in the silver orbs.

The cowardice pigs had not only attacked a defenceless girl, but one who was with child.

Finally the girl noticed him, gasping she scrambled backwards, her own chains letting her only go so far.

"Easy, easy," soothed Jack gently, "I'm not going to hurt you."

Not much convinced, the girl barked back. "Stay away."

He smiled warmly at her, ignoring her plea. "My name is Jack."

The girl relaxed a little, her blue eyes filled with inquisitiveness, a soft impishness in her dark cat-like slits.

"I am Jennifer; it is a pleasure Jack..."

Respectfully she bowed her head, making Jack chortle lightly.

"I am no one important, so please do not bow to me."

Moving closer she stared transfixed, picking up on his magical aura. Jennifer had never been this close to a God before, smiling she asked.

"What are you God of...?"

"Demi-God," he corrected, "I control the elements. Earth, air, fire, water, metal...Etc...It's true then, what I have heard...? Halfling's can sense all Power?"

Jennifer nodded her head. "Yes..." Her face broke out into a wide grin. "You do not fear me like most?"

Jack returned her smile, shrugging his broad shoulders. "I find fear a wasted emotion."

Both of them turned swiftly towards the tent opening as a muttered conversation developed outside, from what Jack gathered they were conversing in the tongue of Nightshade's.

The word for 'Prisoner' rang in his ears. The humans must have caught another and were now deciding their faith.

"Savages," he growled, furious.

"We have to get out of here," whispered Jennifer, "The humans won't keep us alive much longer."

Tugging on his chains he looked at her. "Can you break these?"

She shook her head, clearly annoyed with herself. "I cannot, I have tried but the words in the metal are depleting my efforts, I am sorry Jack."

"Do not apologise Jennifer, it is no fault of yours."

Grumbling, loud and irritated, two humans entered the tent.

One a burly man with skin as dark as a starless sky and eyes just as black, slivers of scars decorated his arms, pink, jagged and ones he bore with pride. His name was Elijah and was the orchestrator of all the assaults on the people of Bian'Dur. The other man was a healer, small and fidgety he looked as if he'd rather be anywhere else but there. Shoving the newcomer inside, he stumbled and fell, hitting the earth with a sharp thud.

"Be quick about this one Ren, we have matters to discuss..."

As soon as he had come he was gone again, part of the tension lifting.

Mateo brushed the hair from his eyes, shakily he moved into a sitting position. His thigh seared painfully, making him want to bellow till the agony subsided. Kneeling down by him, Ren attempted to clean his wound but the Halfling wouldn't have it and snarled viciously at him. The healer's pale green eyes filled with fear, he knew of the dangers of Hybrids and was reluctant to try his luck any further.

Mateo had not yet been restrained, the only reason being, he happened to be too badly injured to strike back.

Taking some fresh gulps of oxygen Ren calmed himself as best he could and doing his damndest to muster up some courage he tried thrice more to tend to Mateo, resulting in the angry Hybrid snapping and growling like a snared animal.

It would've frightened the bravest heart.

Giving up he left, he didn't think it too much of a problem seeing as Elijah would have them all killed soon enough anyway.

Muttering angrily Mateo slid down the beam supporting the tent. He hissed savagely through clenched teeth, digging his nails into his snowflake palms, till blood seeped through his fingers, crimson against white.

Jennifer huddled closely to Jack, not sure if her eyes were deceiving her.

It took several moments before she found her breath again. Even then it was undeniable, she had not seen nor heard from him since they had been the age of ten, but it was him she just knew it, hair as messy as ever, she remembered how he always had it in a braid, although this time it was speckled with fresh blood.

His weapon, however, is what made her truly believe.

Hanging from his hip, tied with a midnight velvet sash trimmed with gold, was the Briarä-Slâ she had given to him for his fifth birthday.

There was no other like it in the land for she had had it specially carved for him.

A trembling smile fell upon her face.

"Br—other," she stuttered finally.


	5. Four: Storms

DISCLAIMER: **I do not own Criminal Minds or its characters! The World I have created and its places are fully of my imagination :) So enjoy!**

AUTHOR'S NOTE: **Ooookay next chapter! Elvin language is completely my own creation-Except for certain names and thank you everyone who read it!  
**

**IntoTheWilds**

**xxx**

* * *

Chapter Four:

**_Storms:_**

_/"Help, anyone please help me!" cried a young woman. _

_Stumbling through a darkened forest, injured and fearful she tried to flee from her predator._

_Her charcoal hair billowing out behind her, she cried out for help a newborn crying in her grasp._

_No one came to her aide._

_The many layers of her red gown caught on snatching branches, as the new moon hung high above the horizon, pinning her there and allowing him to catch up._

_A tall man stepped from the shadows._

_He spoke over the baby's wails._

_"Well, well my dear no where you can go."_

_The moon-light was very bright, tipping the newcomers white blonde hair in silver and turning his pale blue eyes translucent, to the young woman he looked like a ghost._

_Breaking free she continued to run through the brambles, the screams of her child echoing throughout the woodland._

_Coming in contact with a crumbling mountainside blocking her way, she realised she was trapped._

_"Come now," said the man calmly, "it is better to give in and submit."_

_Turning to him tearful she rasped._

_"Why Foyet, What do you need him for?"_

_He smiled darkly._

_"Now that would be telling, give me the boy."_

_She shook her head vigorously, clutching the child to her breast._

_"No."_

_Looking down at the perilous ravine at her side she pulled her son closer, scared stiff as a whisper escaped her lips._

_"May the God's forgive me?"_

_With that she jumped./_

* * *

With a howl of surprise, Spencer bolted forward panting heavily, a light sheen of sweat gleaming on his bare chest, what the hell had he just seen? He didn't recognise any of the people in his dream, but should he? After all it was just a dream, a figment of Spencer's imagination, wasn't it?

Will glanced in his direction, but did not care to acknowledge his distress. Part of his consciousness was more concerned with keeping track of Diana, the last he had sensed from her; she had been boarding a small merchant ship to Findabhair, apparently terrified to stay in Bian'Dur and too scared to return to her home in Galrï. Cutting the string of psychic thread he went to aide Spencer. Will crouched and knelt by the trembling elf and placing two fingers on his sweaty brow he murmured softly, "Mer'ied per."

Spencer found himself calming instantly, pulling away with a shudder his gaze flickered over Will who watched him with growing intrigue.

"What did you do?" Spencer asked tiredly.

"It was a blessing, meaning peace with you. It wards off foreboding images and thoughts as I presume your dream was."

What he said was more a statement of truth, rather than an answer or question.

Spencer frowned, while Will redirected his attention to the fireside. Scarlet and orange sparks dancing up towards the blue/black skies as a new dawn slowly approached, enveloping the earth, a shimmer of light decorating an endless horizon.

Spencer felt extremely confused, he seemed to offend Will no matter what he did, or how he behaved toward him, and yet the Nightshade found the need to help him. He wondered did Will use the same techniques to sooth his own torment or was he too stubborn even for that. He also wanted to ask a question that had been irritating him ever since they had decided to head for Hirosha. And so took a chance and asked much more boldly then was necessary.

"Why is it you dislike the option of returning to your home?"

Completely thrown by the question, Will unsheathed his Briarä-Slâ, clearly not noticing Spencer's flinch when he thought the Nightshade was about to impale him and began sharpening it with his roughly made hunting knife. The almost black sapphire on the weapons hilt glittered mesmerizingly, casting spears of beaming colour, like a diamond would.

It wasn't something he often pondered about, seeing as he preferred to just not think of it at all, but you couldn't run from your past forever and he had been running for so long.

"I-I would rather not answer that Spencer, but I suppose I must, you will hear of it anyway. I was cast out of Hirosha some years ago when I favoured the idea of us opening our gates and welcoming other races amongst us. They called me a fool, said I was as bad as the humans who threatened us so." His eyes became glassy and downcast. "I have not seen my family in years."

"How old were you?"

The tears fell freely now and Will did nothing to wipe them away. His constant torment was carved menacingly into his angry features. "I was only eight years, just a boy when I travelled the distance to Sluain and located my grandmother..."

"Naoki," Spencer voiced.

"No, Naoki was a friend, my grandmother happened to be Jonân, a sharp tongued witty individual, but one of the kindness souls you shall ever meet," he gulped, a lump growing in his throat, "she was slain a year ago by Fran, whilst trying to protect me."

Now Spencer understood why Will wanted to go on the quest. He had brief memories of Jonân; she had been quite a delightful character in her own way. Witty and intelligent, she feared no creature, man, elf or otherwise and he could see very clearly in his mind's eye how she faced Fran and opposed the foul creature with all her might.

"She was very brave Will, you should be proud of her."

"Brave? No, it was foolishness, she shouldn't have-," he stopped finding it difficult to form words. His whole body trembled with his grief. He dug his Briarä-Slâ into the stony earth to stunt his rage, almost feeling the need to gut someone, let them feel his pain for a while. For a time Will said nothing, Spencer wondered if it was best to leave him to his mixed thoughts. "I should have protected her," Will finally choked out, "I should been the one to bleed upon the grounds of Ali, it should have been my body the tree spirits wept for, not hers!" Enraged he inclined his head upwards. "I failed you!" He roared to the velvet blanket above them, startling Spencer, "but I swear I shall not fail you a second time."

A cold silence fell upon the camp; neither Derek nor Desiree stirred from their slumber, their ears deaf to all. Re-sheathing his blade Will muttered a goodnight despite it being morning to Spencer, angry with himself for revealing so much. Throwing himself down, he soon fell into a restless sleep as Spencer watched the first rays of sunrise gather upon the morning mist.

* * *

XxX

* * *

Mateo jerked his head sideways to where the woman's voice had come from, he couldn't believe it, "Jennifer," he managed through ragged breaths, "is it really you?"

Clasping her arms around her weeping brother she comforted him, "Ssh, do not worry I am here."

He howled again, all and any form of contact agonisingly unbearable. Whipping her silk sash from her hair, Jennifer tied it around the top of Mateo's thigh in order to stem the blood flow. As long as the wards were on her wrists she couldn't heal him with magic. She would have to do it the human way. From under the folds of her dress she took a small velvet bag that contained thread and some needles. She usually carried it for mending clothes.

"Jack could you bring me that wash cloth and the basin of water?" She asked crisply.

Startled, Mateo tried to keep down the contents of his stomach, "Who is with us sister?"

"A friend, now calm down brother, for this will not be pleasant."

Heating the small coal fire that had been left to warm them Jennifer quickly tumbled the water from the basin Jack handed her into the rough iron pot above it, letting the liquid simmer feverishly. Once it was at the right temperature she used the tongs to dunk the wash cloth, steam pouring upward. Mateo hissed vehemently, swearing in a tongue Jack didn't know. He presumed it was elfin. Sweat poured from Mateo's every pore, limbs trembling while he babbled nonsense. Using a small dagger, Jennifer cut the fabric of Mateo's slacks with quick and precise movements. When the full extent of his injury was revealed to the bitter wind, Jennifer sucked in a breath. The deep gash was crusted with old blood and was bad looking; it was at least three inches deep, cut from the lower part of his thigh, up toward his groin, but it was merely a flesh wound. Without warning she slapped the boiling cloth onto Mateo's thigh making him screech in the most blood-curdling way, the idea was to scald the wound to clean it. Swiftly Jack pinned Mateo, attempting to calm him when he bucked forward.

"No more!" He shrieked, "Please, sister."

But Jennifer ignored his delirious request; throwing aside the steaming cloth she stuck her needle in the fire to sterilise it, the flames licking and caressing the once cool metal. Then pinching the two sides of the incision together she began to stitch Mateo's flesh back together. He yelped again, struggling, but his sister's grip was firm and unyielding. She refused to release him until her work was done. Whining like a beaten dog, he begged for it to be over. He had never had to deal with an injury this way and each second of pain tormented him. On the fifty-second stitch, the gash was fully sealed and using her pearly teeth Jennifer broke the thread. By now Mateo was only semi-conscious, this worried her greatly. She couldn't have him falling asleep just yet.

"Jack keep him awake; tell him a riddle or something."

Nodding Jack probed his mind and in a shaky started to recite Riddles at random. He kept up with the riddles at Jennifer's command, doing his best to keep Mateo alert, even if just barely, Jennifer threw the cloth back into the simmering water and after a moment she scalded the stitched cut again. This time with no reaction from her brother, he had become numb to it, he didn't even feel it when she cauterized it, to prevent and destroy infection. Tearing a strip of apple green fabric from her dress she wrapped it tightly around Mateo's thigh in order to keep it clean. Leaning back she saw Jack looking apologetic, Mateo had fallen into a deep slumber.

"I am sorry, I tried everything I could."

"Do not fret young one, he needs to sleep."

Jennifer was confident her brother would be fine, his breathing strong and unlaboured. Now and again a distressful whimper came from him but other than that he was at peace. Jack watched her with a great mound of respect, she reminded him of his mentor Emily. How he missed her, he had never witnessed nor helped in a healing such as this and was curious to know how Jennifer got the wisdom to do what she did with such ease.

"Where did you learn your healing abilities?"

"I was born in Ishbina village just across the Kumnan border in Bian'Dur. In my tenth year our home was captured by humans, how they managed to cross into the elves nation I shall never understand. Two different tribes attacked, one took me to Urgan, the other took my brother, where? I won't know until he himself tells me."

Taking the barrel of drinking water from the side of the tent Jennifer cooled the wash cloth before placing it over Mateo's forehead, doing what she could to kill his fever.

"Urgan had been human dominated for years, so each of them wore a Fúlkraë."

"A—what," Jack asked clearly puzzled.

If she had been surprised at his lack of knowledge she didn't let it show.

"The Fúlkraë, meaning binded one is a dangerously crafted bracelet from the metal gathered at Älta'nar using the magical fires of a dragon to smelt it. Embedded in the black metal are the words, 'Sifa älta per, saltä Fúlkraë!' which translates as—A curse upon you, be gone binded one! The runes cast some sort of spell that represses all magic."

Jack growled savagely, "Why that is evil, no wonder they have been able to overwhelm us, using such trickery."

"It is how they kept me a slave, I could not cast spells, nor could I heal myself if I became injured. So I watched the humans closely and learnt the way they did it and now my dear twin should be well soon."

"That explains how she hurt me," Mateo suddenly rasped through parched lips, "I-I couldn't understand how I did not sense her when she c-came close, n-normally I-I would have, it's something I learnt after the humans to-ok my sight."

For the first time since their reunion Jennifer looked right into his eyes and saw they were whiter than new fallen snow. She clung to him and wept for his loss, for the eyes were a terrible thing to lose. No sooner had he awoken, Mateo fell to the hands of sleep once again and Jennifer slumped back, dabbing her eyes with her sleeve. Jack watched her in silence, a new moon seasoning the tent with a ghostly glow. He didn't know what to say in order to comfort her. Still sniffling she took up her dagger, wiping away her brother's blood, cleaning the blade and began working its sharp tip into the grooves of the bolts on her shackles.

* * *

XxX

* * *

It was a beautiful hot day and Derek soaked in the rays of the sun as he sat beside the Nera River. He brushed his hand through his hair in agitation. Sitting up the sun shimmered over a brightly coloured tattooed bird upon his back, a beautiful gold, yellow, orange and red Phoenix only painted on the bodies of royals at the age of four, old runes hidden in the paint as a form of a ward. The magnificent firebird represented courage and power. All that a king must be, slivers of white scars blended in with the paintwork telling their own tale. He felt as if he could sit on the bank for hours, but what help would it have given. Bian'Dur had been claimed by the humans and Galrï was on the verge of war. He feared Findabhair may see a civil war soon, for he knew in his heart Fran was not alone in her supposedly single-minded quest to destroy him.

No, she had to be planning something.

Already she had gained the Necrosphinx as allies and Derek dreaded to think who's trust she might seize next. Hearing the gentle neighing of a horse, he opened his bright gold eyes and turned to look at his right. He was surprised to see a tawny mare watching him and kneeling next to her was the most beautiful creature he had ever seen. Her blonde hair shone like a fine piece of woven silk. Her skin was lushly cream coloured, but it was her eyes Derek wished desperately to see, as her head drooped weakly over the water's edge. Getting to his feet, the leather of his boots crunching on the stones, Derek approached, careful not to frighten her, but she heard.

Jumping to her feet, she steadied herself by holding onto her mare, the horse's heart beating heavily against her breast. Closing her eyes till the nausea passed. Her hand slipped to the dagger on her hip. She had been captured once, she wouldn't let the same thing happen again.


	6. Five: Footsteps In The Sand

DISCLAIMER: **I do not own Criminal Minds or its characters! The World I have created and its places are fully of my imagination :) So enjoy!**

AUTHOR'S NOTE: **Another chapter and forgive me! I am sooo sorry about the delay. This is a short chapter, been having one of those weeks! Enjoy and thank you to all who read and reviewed!**

** IntoTheWilds**

**xxx**

* * *

Chapter Five:

**_Footsteps in the Sand:_**

Coming up close to her Derek smiled brightly, "Hello there, do you need any help?" She didn't answer, only glared, her hand wrapped around her dagger. Derek tried again. "What is your name?"

Still no answer, which only left Derek puzzled. He was after all, trying to be friendly.

"I asked you a question."

She stared at him, "I do not give my name out to strangers and I certainly will not give it to a man I just met."

Her words were harsh and coated with disdain. Although she did not look it, Derek believed she was of royal blood or at the very least from a noble family. He stepped a bit closer to gain full view of her. She was thin, but not overly so, body built for agility. Beneath her skin rippled lean muscles, which the closer he got, the more they tensed. On her right hand Derek noticed a spiral tattoo working its way up her arm and disappearing beneath her sleeve. Her face was young. Free of age. Derek guessed nineteen or twenty that is until he saw her pointed ears, two gold loops in the lobe of her left one. As an elf she could be centuries old for all he knew. Pressing his luck further he reached out toward her only to have Diana grasp his wrist roughly. With a great deal of strength she spun Derek around and ripping his falchion from its sheath, threw him to the ground, sharp blade held to his throat. Derek gulped feeling the falchion's heavy tip digging into his Adam's apple.

"What are you?!" Diana spat. "You are not human nor an elf!"

"I-I am a hybrid!" He gasped causing his skin to tear against his blade. A small warm trickle of blood dribbled down his throat.

"Is that so? You are unlike any hybrid I've seen."

She pressed the falchion deeper.

"My sister and I are the only ones of our kind. Not siren, not human, two of two, one and the same!"

"You lie! Sirens do not bear children!"

"I do not, I swear to you!"

Derek could see the fury growing in Diana's eyes. He knew then if he didn't act soon only one of them would walk away alive. First thing was to keep her talking until the right moment.

"I give you my word elf. I am telling you the truth and I most certainly mean you no harm."

"My name is Diana. Do not soon forget it hybrid snake!"

Pulling back his left leg Derek used his knee to knock Diana over his head, sending her tumbling. Before she found her footing and faced him, without accidentally skewering herself, she was dismayed to see he already had made it to his feet, a sword clasped firmly in his left hand. Palms sweaty, Diana gripped the hilt of her newly acquired falchion. She planned to give it back and enjoyed the thoughts of someone having to tear it out of his stilled heart, ripping his flesh asunder. The cold gleam in Diana's eyes startled Derek, unnerving him. Surely a woman would be no match for him.

"Seeing as we are in the middle of introductions, no matter how strange, my name is Derek."

Diana scowled, Derek dipping into a slight bow without taking his eyes off of his opponent. Both legs firmly set apart, sword raised Derek sneered angering Diana more. With a screech she lunged forward swinging the falchion downward at Derek's left shoulder, but the king was too fast. Dancing backward he parried her attack forcing Diana away from himself with a gruff shove. Spinning away from him as he stabbed at her, Diana feinted right and while Derek was preoccupied using the falchion she slashed his left arm, breaking skin, rupturing tendons and ligaments. Derek howled, torrents of blood spilling from the wound, all movement gone from his left hand. Enraged he tackled her back, their weapons colliding noisily every time. Despite his blood loss, he could tell Diana was tiring faster and with whatever strength he had left Derek jostled her to the ground, knocking the falchion from her grasp into the depths of the Nera River. Diana yowled like a mother lion that had just lost her cub to a hunter. Pounding her fists on the sandy bank she looked up to see Derek standing over her. With a grunt she pushed herself up onto her feet.

"Go on then mighty Derek, kill me."

Snorting, Derek sheathed his sword with partial difficulty and wrapping his paralyzed arm with a handkerchief began walking back towards camp, where he would have Spencer heal him. After a moment he slowed his pace and listening carefully, counting down from three he heard Diana and her horse following close behind. A smug smile fought to cross his face, but he wouldn't allow it. She was still a threat. Coming up beside Derek, mounted on Iluvia, she fell into stride with him, the two not saying a word.

* * *

XxX

* * *

Laying out a map of Findabhair, Spencer attempted to predict how long it would take to get to Hirosha. Almost two hundred leagues, it was bad enough horseback and twice as hard on foot.

"How's it looking?" Will asked pulling on his leather boots and strapping his Briarä-Slâ to his thick belt.

"Not good," grunted Spencer displeased, "without horses it'll take the better part of a week to reach the town and without supplies, we wouldn't last."

Walking up to them Desiree sat cross-legged her dress fanning out around her. She wore a deep frown and was clearly worried about something, "Have you seen Derek?"

Looking up Spencer's eyebrows fell, "Come to think of it, I have not seen the King in almost two hours."

"Nor have I seen him," murmured Will.

Desiree's frown deepened unsure of what could have become of him. Glancing up the river Desiree felt her heart skip a beat when he finally appeared over the hill. To her surprise a woman rode on horseback next to him. Ignoring her for a moment she stood smiling waving her arms. Will and Spencer were amused by the display.

Seeing Desiree, Derek chuckled while Diana rolled her eyes, thinking it all quite childish. A cloud of fatigue swept over the young King making him falter. The world fell out of focus and he found himself stumbling. From where Desiree stood she saw Derek stumble and a sickly feeling clutched at her innards. Bolting over Will and Spencer who closely followed, she made it to his side just before he hit the ground. He was unconscious, but still breathing, although they were strained, laboured gasps. Diana jumped from Iluvia's back wishing to offer her help, but Desiree shouted at her to get back. The girl was scared and near hysterical, tears like a waterfall falling from her silver eyes. It was all she could do just to contain herself. Removing the bloody handkerchief from around Derek's wound; Desiree quenched the vomit rising in her throat at the sight of the disfigured remains of his arm.

"Spencer, can you heal this?"

Drawing near Spencer placed his right hand over the King's injury. After a moment his eyes blazed a light apple green. Energy flooded from him into the King's body, mending the severed tendons and ligaments in his arm, knitting the torn flesh back together and helping his heart pump the blood around the body properly. Derek's forced pants slowed to an even pace and when Spencer finished, he lay in a serenely peaceful sleep.

Within seconds, before Diana could try and defend herself, Desiree had the elf pinned, her own dagger pressed sharply into her left cheek. Sharp shards of granite clung uncomfortably into her knees and shins, where they were positioned either side of Diana. But Desiree didn't care much. Derek's welfare was all that mattered to her now.

"How did Derek come to be in this state?" She spat acidly, "How?!"

"We had a disagreement and fought!" Diana spluttered Desiree's weight heavy on her chest, "I happened to injure him!"

"You filthy wench, how dare you!"

Raising her dagger high above her head, Desiree went to drive it through Diana's neck in hopes of tearing her spinal cord when, "NO!" She looked back to see Will clearly livid. "Do NOT touch her!"

Scowling darkly Desiree rose to her feet taking Diana up roughly by the hair. Placing the dagger dangerously close to her jugular, Desiree glared angrily at Will. Outraged that he would dare challenge her authority and in a deathly low growl she said, "There had better be a good reason why I should not."

He could sense Spencer thinking the same thing. The elf's emotions flared and tensed. He knew the boy would thank him someday for his insubordination.

"Do not kill her," he said in a voice barely audible, "for she is Spencer's birth mother."


End file.
